


He’s Thunderstorms

by hoetaku97



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:41:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26595415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoetaku97/pseuds/hoetaku97
Summary: Osamu has all the makings of the perfect storm. He is the crackling of the air under a perfect gray sky, ominous and exciting. One word from him could open the heavens and bring down the rain with extreme prejudice, dousing everything in his fury and his grace. It’s all the things he makes Rintarou feel from his very core, made real by his wrath and passion alone.OrAlternatively, songfic based on She’s Thunderstorms by Arctic Monkeys.
Relationships: Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou
Comments: 1
Kudos: 57





	He’s Thunderstorms

**Author's Note:**

> first try writing sunaosa for @onigiriisamu
> 
> as i said in the summary, based on she’s thunderstorms by arctic monkeys

Osamu Miya has made a complete fool of Rintarou Suna.

(He doesn’t mind.)

Rintarou catches himself always watching him, trying to understand, desperate to figure him out. Without ever realizing, he has reached a point where he is always near Osamu, a million questions on the tip of his tongue.

He never asks. Instead, he opts to watch the answers he seeks unfold before his very eyes.

He wants a taste of Osamu’s reality, and to know it as well as he knows his own.

If Rintarou really sat and thought about it, it probably began the first time he saw Osamu, and it has been his constant companion ever since. He remembers the way he quietly introduced himself on the first day of class, when Rintarou sat down beside him and extended a greeting first. The only reason Rintarou introduced himself in the first place was because he had forgotten his pencil, which Osamu never directly commented on, but Rintarou could see it in the amused curve of his dark, sharp eyes.

Words have never been necessary between them anyhow.

Not when they constantly observe each other, silently making notes of the other’s tells and reactions.

Osamu watches him too, he notes. Especially when he thinks Rintarou doesn’t notice.

This curiosity has bloomed into a mutual friendship defined by complete honesty, with nowhere for them to hide from each other.

Osamu has all the makings of the perfect storm. He is the crackling of the air under a perfect gray sky, ominous and exciting. One word from him could open the heavens and bring down the rain with extreme prejudice, dousing everything in his fury and his grace. It’s all the things he makes Rintarou feel from his very core, made real by his wrath and passion alone. He is always storming upon Rintarou’s shores, whether it’s intentional or not. The lighting that shoots through his veins from each point of contact is as real and tangible as anything he has ever experienced. Osamu is somehow the most real thing in Rintarou’s life, the feelings that fill him so thick and suffocating when it surrounds him, he thinks he can’t breathe. But, each time the air flees his lungs, Osamu breathes new life into him, making a home for himself between bones and marrow, sparing Rintarou the emptiness that existed before.

Rintarou feared for years the he was just an empty shell, with all the makings of a human being, none of the humanity. Perhaps feared isn’t the right word, because it’s a thing he recognized with mild indifference and acceptance. He was a husk lacking all substance, devoid of the sentimentality seemingly shared by everyone around him. Osamu sets his nerves alight and assures him he’s as capable as anyone else of feeling the thunder rumbling within his core, shaking him from the inside out, sending him mindlessly chasing the vibrations.

Now, with Osamu next to him, both leaned against the wall of Rintarou’s room, he thinks he can faintly smell rain.

His slate gray hair is slightly tousled, and his eyes are mindlessly trained on the space between their two pinky fingers. He looks as though he has so many things he wants to say, and is willing to share not a single one.

Rintarou wonders if he could be content with this forever. He wonders if he could live in this space between wanting everything and expecting nothing at the same time. He doesn’t want to be Osamu’s friend, he realizes. He never just wanted to be his friend. What was once clinical curiosity has bloomed into something like an acrobatic love, and all the constant longing that comes with it.

When Osamu lifts his eyes to meet Rintarou’s, his breath catches in his throat. The usual apathy and disinterest present in Osamu’s eyes is long gone now, replaced with something that looks like determination and cool steel.

“Rin, can I kiss ya?”

Rather than answer, Rintarou places his hands on either side of Osamu’s face, and straddles his hips. He looks down at him curiously for just a moment, before greedily taking in Osamu’s mouth. He tastes minty and sweet and like all the things that make Rintarou’s dreams. Osamu threads his fingers through Suna’s spikey locks, kissing him like a man starving. Kissing Osamu feels like coming up for air after drowning, and to stay in this moment, he might just let him devour him completely. This is the eye of the storm. This is everything Rintarou has ever wanted, and everything he never dared ask for. Osamu’s touch feels like gale winds wipping across his face and body and heavy rain pounding against his skin. Everything is made new in the face of this cleansing driving rain, complete with the sound of distant thunder. For once in his life, Rintarou is fine with relinquishing control, allowing himself to be swept away by the moment and the feelings like flood water that threaten to burst the the dam in his chest, separating him from the rest of the world. He doesn’t want to hide from Osamu. He wants to see and be seen, and to taste his lightning. Kissing Osamu is all the pleasures Rintarou has ever denied himself in the name of hiding away within the empty husk he once thought himself to be, but now the floodgates are open, and they flow freely from his open mouth. He kisses with desperation, and a refusal to let Osamu fade back into the background. Gone are the casual observers they once were, observing each other’s every move with detached interest.

If Osamu Miya is a storm, Rintarou is a flower that had endured a drought.

Osamu is more than he had ever bargained for or anticipated, and Rintarou wants him in his entirety.

There are things Rintarou Suna knows, and there are things he can only dream.

Osamu Miya exists somewhere in between.

Osamu Miya is everything known and unknown, and everything that constantly lingers in his peripheral.

He does what the night does to the day.

**Author's Note:**

> if u liked it come say hi on twit @OMIONLYFANS


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